


three cigarettes

by DanelleSepthon



Category: Original Work
Genre: Car Accidents, Character Death, Existentialism, Gen, Implied Violence, Originally written as a theater final in highschool, Reedited as a college sophomore, Smoking, That's really the whole plot tbh, it's a metaphor, lots of smoking, play script
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-05 01:27:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17315489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanelleSepthon/pseuds/DanelleSepthon
Summary: Before we begin, I’d like to remind everyone that this is all going to end. That is the nature of all productions. They start and then suddenly they stop.((A one act play about the last three seconds of a woman's life.))





	three cigarettes

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there. This was written for my high school theater final like three years ago? I forgot it existed but I found it when I was cleaning out my computer. The play ended up being staged once at the end of the class by my classmates and we all had a blast putting it on. I have ambitions of one day making this concept into a longer work, so I'd really appreciate reviews on this one so that I can improve it. Thanks and I hope ya'll enjoy.

dramatis personae

Death

Jessica Arden

John Arden

Louella Arden

Mr. Alexander

Mr. Buford

 

* * *

 

 

(Death stands center stage with their hands folded behind their back. They are stiff and completely still. Are they even breathing? Death smiles and stares ahead, gaze past the audience. The grin doesn’t reach their eyes.)

DEATH: Before we begin, I’d like to remind everyone that this is all going to end. That is the nature of all productions. They start and then suddenly they stop. To you sitting so comfortably out there, know that my only goal tonight is to make you uncomfortable. Horribly uncomfortable, honestly. You won’t enjoy this. Or maybe you will. It takes all sorts I suppose. Either way, let me set the stage for you.

(A crowd of people wander in from both sides. They are standing at a cross walk as traffic passes. A police man chats with a woman as he sips a coffee. A teenager argues with her father. A man reads a newspaper at the bus stop. Stage right stands a young woman in business causal with her briefcase at her side. She is on the phone, oblivious to everything around her.)

DEATH: This is Jessica Olivia Arden. Her friends and family call her Jessie. Her co-workers call her Mrs. Arden. Her husband calls her Jess. Her daughter calls her Mommy. Jessica is 32 years old. She is an attorney at the Buford & Alexander law firm, where she makes a nice income to support her family.

(The woman’s phone rings. She picks it up.)

DEATH: In thirty seconds, a Ford Wrangler driven by Jessica’s next-door-neighbor, Ms. Marilyn Lee Smith, will speed through the intersection down the road. Ms. Marilyn’s lover left her last night and she spent all the money in his wallet on beer and other liquors. Due to the alcohol, she won’t realize she hit Jessica till she is pulled over by a traffic cop. Jessica will likewise not see Ms. Marilyn coming despite the noise. She is occupied with a call she considers very important, from her boss Mr. Alexander. Shortly, Mr. Alexander will be horribly shaken as he hears screams and the sound of an engine ending his employee’s life. (Pause) Here it comes.

(While Death was talking, Jessica looked both ways and started to cross the road, headed straight for Death. With every step closer to the center, the people around her slow down and turn to look at her in terror. The police man starts to blow his whistle when Death finishes speaking and the sound of a roaring engine can be heard.

Jessica bumps right into an unfazed Death and everything stops.)

DEATH: Do you have a light?

(Lights return. Jessica is still against Death, stunned and dazed. Death now holds a pack of cigarettes in one hand, a single cigarette ready to light in the other. The crowd has all frozen in place.)

JESSICA: Wh... wha... ah! Ahhh!

DEATH: A ‘no’ would have sufficed, thank you, very much. (He walks over to the police man and digs through his pockets, drawing out a lighter) Bingo.

JESSICA: (Still screaming) What is- Who are- What the hell is going on?! Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. _Oh my god_.

DEATH: Oh my. (He lights the cigarette and takes a long drag)

JESSICA: (Turns sharply towards him) Who are you?

DEATH: Ask a better question.

JESSICA: What?

DEATH: (Louder) Ask a better question. These are the last few moments you have left, my dear. If you want to waste them on stupid questions, it would be a real shame.

JESSICA: What are you talking about? I’m not dy- (Pauses, looking back to where the car had been) I’m dying?

DEATH: At 9:34 in mortal time, you will be declared deceased from head trauma. You are dying.

JESSICA: 9:34 ... What time is it now? How long do I have?

DEATH: (sighs) Time is such strange concept. You give a name to single, minuscule instances of space, know them for mere precious seconds, then watch them tick away.

JESSICA: Huh?

DEATH: I don’t like time. There is no time here.

JESSICA: I'm so confused. How am I going to die soon if there is no time in this... place?

DEATH: You will die, yes. Only, I can't measure when you will no longer be alive. I know it's hard to understand, but shortly you won't particularly need to know. From experience I know the residents of the afterlife don't care about much.

JESSICA: That makes no sense.

DEATH: Sense, another mortal conceived concept, has no place here.

JESSICA: You're crazy. This is crazy. This is crazy and 100% not happening.

DEATH: I hate the denial stage. No good conversation.

JESSICA: Shut up! Stop talking like you're goddamn omnipotent. I’m not dying. Who the hell do you think you are?

DEATH: Now, that that is a good question. Not ‘who am I?’ but ‘who the _hell_ do I _think_ I am?’ A strong, thoughtful question, miss. It almost warrants an answer.

JESSICA: Almost.

DEATH: Yes, that’s what I said. Only almost, because the answer you seek is elusive and complex. I don't think you have enough cigarettes left to get the whole story. You’re already also down one, see? (He takes the cigarette and puts in front of her face. She slaps him away and Death just barely catches it) Now that wasn’t smart! I almost lost it. That would _not_ have been good for you.

JESSICA: Where are we? I need to get out of here. I need to get to work.

DEATH: Do you really want to go to work? Now of all times?

JESSICA: I want to be anywhere but here! Absolutely anywhere!

DEATH: Alright-y. (He leans down and extinguishes his cigarette on the pavement) One spent. You have two left.

JESSICA: What? (Death raises his hands. The crowd leaves except for one man, who now takes on the role of Mr. Alexander, Jessica’s harsh, no non-sense boss. He wanders about, clutching his hair and pacing. Death retakes his place center stage. Jessica steps to the side, stunned, watching the scene in awe.)

JESSICA: That’s my boss. Mr. Alexander.

DEATH: He’s mourning your death. A few moments ago, he got word of your passing.

JESSICA: (suspicious) I thought you said I wasn’t dead yet?

DEATH: Like I said before. I don’t understand time. Your idea of past, present, and future do not matter here.

JESSICA: (pause) Is he... crying?

DEATH: I often find that human’s like this man do not like expression such emotions in front of others. He waited till he was alone.

JESSICA: I never... I never thought he cared. Why would he be so upset? I’m just his work lackey.

(Suddenly, another man enters the scene.)

JESSICA: That’s Mr. Buford.

DEATH: Ah, yes. I have an appointment with Morgan Buford next year.

JESSICA: That’s not funny.

DEATH: Lung cancer. Doesn’t know he has it yet. (Examines his box of cigarettes) You know, I can’t taste anything nor do I have lungs, but these things must be quite amazing if humans are willing to die for them.

(Mr. Buford walks solemnly over to his co-worker and puts his hand on his shoulder. Alexander is startled, but doesn’t refuse.)

BUFORD: It’s not your fault, pal.

ALEXANDER: Don’t, Morgan. I don’t need this right now, okay?

BUFORD: But it really isn’t. You might be my business partner, but you’re my friend first. We all liked Jess, don’t get me wrong. But you’re the head honcho here. They look up to you and in these kinds of situations, they need someone to keep a level head.

ALEXANDER: What about you?

BUFORD: It needs to be you, James. You’re the serious half of this partnership, right? I’m the shoulder to cry on, you’re the one whose gonna help us move on.

ALEXANDER: She was just a kid. The woman had so much life ahead of her. She had a family, had kids. I put too much pressure on her. Hell, why did I even call her that early? I didn’t need to. I shouldn’t have. She’d still be alive if I hadn’t called.

JESSICA: (Walking towards them) Seriously? If it wasn’t for you two, I’d still be waiting tables in a dive bar somewhere. A law degree is nice and all but without someone to give you that head start, it’s not going to get you far. (To Death) These guys pushed me to be the best I could be. They-

ALEXANDER: (Angry) We worked her to death. We killed Jessica Arden, Morgan. We killed her.

(Jessica walks over to the two of them, staring in awe. She turns to Death and they lock eyes. Death sighs and pulls a new cigarette out of the box and the two men exit in silence.)

DEATH: Two more left.

JESSICA: I’m really dead.

DEATH: We’ve been over this you’re-

JESSICA: _About to die_. Sorry.

DEATH: Touchy.

JESSICA: I’m about to get hit by a car, what do you want from me?

DEATH: Hm, is that another question? It’s not a great one.

JESSICA: I don’t think I’ve hated anyone more than you in my whole life.

DEATH: It’s truly a miracle you were ever married. (Takes a long drag)

JESSICA: (Pause) My husband, when will he know I’m dead? Is he going to be alright?

DEATH: You only have two left, you want to see John Michael Arden?

JESSICA: (Sounding panicked) If-If I’m going to die I want to see my family first. Not just my husband. I have a daughter.

DEATH: Louella Arden, 9, not due for another-

JESSICA: Shut up.

DEATH: My bad. I’ll take you to them.

(A man and a girl come and sit on the floor center stage. The girl is playing with some toys and her father is helping put together a dollhouse for her.)

JESSICA: I remember that dollhouse. That was from last Christmas.

DEATH: I picked an older moment. Something a bit more cheerful.

JESSICA: (Walks towards her family) We bought that when we went to Venice for our anniversary and brought it home. It was really wood, cherry wood, and it was hand-painted. It had lights inside you could turn on and off. Oh, and the little Christmas tree in the living room spun around. Louella loved it so much she cried. I got it all on camera. John saw it in an antique store and thought of her. We had to have it sent over in pieces since it was so big. She made John and I spend the whole day putting it together. At least until...

LOUELLA: Daddy, when will mommy be home?

JOHN: Late tonight I imagine. You know her.

LOUELLA. Okay. (Pause) I’m going to let my doggie sleep here.

JOHN: (Chuckles) Then where will the mommy and daddy sleep if the doggie’s in their bed?

LOUELLA: They can do what you and mommy do. The mom can sleep in the office and the dad can sleep on the couch.

JOHN: (Startled) We only do that sometimes, sweetie. Just because your mom’s really busy with work and I like to stay up later. That’s all.

LOUELLA: Okay.

JESSICA: He used to drink a lot. Whenever he got drunk I made him sleep on the couch. John’s a good guy, but he has his vices. I’m so proud that he got clean but... God, he’s just too good for me. I wasn’t meant to be a mom or a wife. I think in some ways Mr. Alexander was right, only _I_ worked myself to death. My baby girl’s not going to have a mother now and it’s my fault. (To Death) Is it always like this? When people die?

DEATH: Regrets are natural to a being defined by its choices.

JESSICA: Do you have any regrets?

DEATH: I’m defined by my results.

(While they were talking, the two others have left. It is just Death and Jessica on the stage now.)

JESSICA: This is going by too fast. Will it hurt?

DEATH: I wouldn’t think so. It’s the end of your human life and pain is a human feeling. I don’t expect it will last. (He extinguishes his cigarette and pulls out the last one) Where will your last moment take you.

JESSICA: (Pause) I want to ask you questions and I want you to answer them, no matter how stupid.

DEATH: That is... surprising. Usually only the elderly want to talk to me much.

JESSICA: Why cigarettes?

DEATH: They are quite easy to be rid of. I don’t like having excess memories laying around after their owners are gone.

JESSICA: So when someone dies you just... throw them away.

DEATH: No, not at all. I just make sure not to get to attached to beings. You people come and go but I will always be here.

JESSICA: Are you really... death?

DEATH: Not completely sure. I’ve been called that before, sometimes other things. I won’t go down the list. I’m sure you can imagine. I’m the one who you see before you go. The great escort.

JESSICA: Like Charon? The River Styx?

DEATH: I let kids call me Skully sometimes. They like that name.

JESSICA: You take kids here.

DEATH: I know not of age.

JESSICA: That’s awful.

DEATH: I’m aware.

JESSICA: (Pauses and looks out into distance. Death extinguishes his last cigarette) I see something. It’s bright. What is it?

DEATH: That’s the end. Are you ready?

JESSICA: I don’t know. I don’t really have a choice do I?

DEATH: I wish I could give you one, but no.

JESSICA: That’s okay. I think I’m ready. (the sound of a roaring engine begins in the distance, slowly rising) This... isn’t what I thought would be happening this morning, but I’ve never been one to let things hold me back. Maybe... this is just another step to take for my future. A whole new venture. I’ll miss what’s behind me but... maybe they’ll be okay. They’ll be okay, right?

DEATH: When they come here, I’ll make sure they are cared for.

JESSICA: Thank you. You know despite being some weird death deity, you’re not too bad. Thank you for making this painless.

DEATH: I wish you the best in the afterlife, Jessica. God speed up there.

(Jessica nods and closes her eyes)

JESSICA: God speed... yeah. Here we go.

(A car horn blares. The lights go dead.)

 

THE END.


End file.
